The Last Day
by ZevieObsessed2012
Summary: It's Zander and Stevie's last day of summer vacation before their senior year and they really want to do something they'll remember—like crashing a beach party, lying in the bed of a truck in the middle of a thunderstorm, and steaming up a few windows. Just a short one-shot/song-fic. Zevie. Rated T!


**A/N: Alright, getting some writing done today, so I thought I would post this one-shot based on the song **Lightning In A Bottle **by The Summer Set. Love this song, so addicting!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own How to Rock or Lightning In A Bottle by The Summer Set**

**I recommend you listen to it before or while you read, because it'll just give you more of an idea of what I'm going for with this fic :)**

_ZANDER's POV_

Today is the last day of summer for all of us that go to Brewster—well, the freshmen had their last day yesterday. It's the last day for us upper classmen. My girlfriend and I have spent the entire summer creating adventures that we'll be able to tell when we're older and laugh about how stupid we were.

That's what summer is though. It's time for us older kids to do stupid things we can't talk about again until we're older, and can't be grounded because of it. Stevie Baskara, my girlfriend as of eleven months, and I are sitting in my basement trying to think of something to do for our last day of "freedom".

My parents are away for the day with my little sister, so we've been stuck here all day with no plans. We've been throwing ideas around all day, but nothing seems like it's worth the last day. We've got the TV on low, Stevie's lying on top of me, scrolling through her Facebook wall on her phone.

"I wish we would come up with something!" Stevie groans, "It's already noon…"

"Well, why don't you read through some posts instead of skipping over them?" I chuckle, taking her phone and skimming through the feed. I can see why she's skipped over most posts—they're all drama and stupid spams. "Something might give us an idea, you know?"

"Well, if you can come up with something awesome out of all that crap on there, then let me know," she deadpans, burying her face into my chest. I smile at her and continue scrolling through her Facebook feed when a new post comes up.

"Hey, Steves?" I say, nudging her slightly.

"What?" she mumbles into my shirt.

I chuckle as I respond, "I think I got something… feel like going to a beach party tonight?"

"Oh God, you're not talking about Justin's party are you? He's been bugging me all week to go… he knows I'm with you, but I think he's just hoping to get me alone tonight," she frowns, snuggling a bit closer to me.

"Don't worry, baby," I laugh, "I won't leave your side. Besides, Justin against me? No competition," I tease, laughing harder as she swats me in response.

"You're too confident sometimes," Stevie smirks, sitting up and getting off the couch.

"Where are you going?" I ask, shutting the television off—there's nothing on anyway.

"We have a party to get to, don't we?" she laughs, holding her hand out for me. I laugh and take her hand, and walk ahead of her, up the stairs and out the front door to my truck.

We spend most of the afternoon driving around Santa Monica and Los Angeles, just looking for way to pass time. Justin's party, at this point, has already started. We're technically not invited—well, I'm not, but Stevie's going to crash with me.

This should be interesting.

There's a highway embedded into the rock along the shore, and right under that highway is a small bit of land. It's not a real beach, but it's a place not many people go. Figures Justin would host his party there and not on some big known beach, right?

There's a spot back in the trees, off the highway, where I park the truck and look over at Stevie, "Ready to crash Justin Cole's party?"

"God, you're insane… he's gonna kick us out the second he sees you," she laughs, shaking her head. I smirk at her.

"That's alright, we're a package deal, aren't we? If he kicks me out, he's kicking you out, and we both know he won't want to do that."

"You might have a point," she teases, getting out of the truck. I follow her out and walk around the front of the truck, slipping my arm around her waist. Aviators—check. Stevie rolls her eyes at me, but I know she's digging the glasses.

She always does.

"God, we're so getting kicked out," she mumbles, laughing. '

We walk across the highway—it's not a very busy highway—and then find the stairs down to the small beach below. Music's blasting, and there's a huge bonfire starting. Everyone's got a drink in one hand and a sparkler in the other. Kids are walking around with lighters, lighting each one up.

"Real party," Stevie calls to me over the music.

We walk over to the table with the drinks and grab one for ourselves, quickly writing our names on the plastic cups with the sharpie markers provided. Stevie pockets the marker and I laugh, "Why'd you just take that?"

"Because," she shrugs, "I might need it."

I don't argue, I just laugh and shake my head, dismissing it.

As the music shifts from song to song, I sing into her ear and kiss her forehead when she tilts her head slightly to push me away. We walk over to one of the kids handing out sparklers and take one each, while another kid comes over and lights them. Stevie touches the tip of her sparkler to mine and the music shifts to something a little faster, something you can dance to.

"Steves, come dance with me?" I ask, grinning at her, knowing she can't say no. She bites her lip—she's so cute when she does that—and finally nods her head, surrendering. I know she doesn't want to, but she comes anyway, and I do most of the dancing.

"Come on!" I call over the music, "You know you're having fun! Stop worrying about getting kicked out! If we get kicked out, that'll just be even more fun," I laugh, trying to make her move to the music. She rolls her eyes, clearly amused, and starts moving with me, "_There we go!_"

Eventually the music shifts to something slower, and Stevie bails instantly—she's not one for slow dances, I've always know that. It's always made me laugh, so I follow her to the water on the other side of this small beach, and she says, "It looks like it's about to rain, doesn't it?"

"Oh, Cole's not gonna like that," I laugh, looking back to the bonfire which has grown a bit larger since we've been here. I can see the glistening of more sparklers being set off, and somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbles.

The music's too loud for anyone at the party to notice though.

"I was right," Stevie laughs, holding my hand and walking towards the water. She's one of those people that hates the bottom of her jeans getting soaked through in the rain, but loves dipping her feet into the water, no matter what she's wearing. It's odd, but something I find incredibly adorable.

She goes almost knee-deep into the water when lightning flashes and the party dies down suddenly as people are rushing to clean everything up. Stevie laughs and turns back to the water, "They shouldn't get so worked up… it's not going to be here for another half hour at least."

"Eh, let them," I shrug, "It's funny."

She swats me again and shakes her head, clearly trying to fight her amusement. She steps out of the water and says, "Let's go back to the truck. We can sit in the bed of your truck with the pillows and blankets we brought and watch the storm."

"Sounds like a plan," I grin, taking her hand again and pulling her back up to the road, across the highway, and then through the trees until we find my old, beaten up truck. We pull the blankets and pillows out of the backseat and throw them into the bed of the truck so it's one giant mattress almost.

Stevie climbs in first and snuggles under the blankets, and when I join her, she wraps herself around me. I wrap my arm around her waist and shut my eyes, listening as the thunder and lightning grow closer. Rain starts to come down, but we're not bothered by it, we stay where we are.

The thunder and lightning continue to go off above us, and we just watch through the tops of the trees. By this point, Stevie and I are soaked through our clothes completely. The pillows and blankets are soaked, and the air's starting to cool down. Stevie shivers beside me, and that's when we decide to go back into the truck.

As soon as we're inside, I turn the heat on to hopefully warm us up and dry us off. It takes a while, but eventually we've stopped shivering. Stevie leans back in her seat and says, "Give me your arm for a sec?"

"That's an odd request," I laugh, but hand her my arm anyway. She pulls the sharpie marker out of her back pocket and uncaps it. Holding the cap between her teeth, she turns my arm over so the underside of my wrist is facing her. She starts writing on the skin, and she does it quickly.

"Fake tattoos, Steves?" I chuckle, "Isn't that a bit… junior high-ish?"

She rolls her eyes playfully and caps the sharpie marker, "Look at it, Z."

I do as she says and notice it's the amalgamation of our names—"Zevie"—and then at the end, she's written an "x" and an "o". I smile at it and say, "It's beautiful, Steves."

She bursts out laughing and says, "You're welcome, I think!" She calms down after a minute and I can't help myself, she looks beautiful soaking wet. I lean over the seat and gently kiss her, and she returns the kiss eagerly. I tangle my fingers in her hair and keep her lips firmly against mine.

She parts her lips slightly, just enough for me to slip my tongue into her mouth and play around with hers, dominating. She smiles against my lips and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer—if at all possible. I slowly move my hand along the dash board until I feel the knob for the heat and shut if off quickly—suddenly it's _too_ hot in the truck, but I don't mind it.

I like having Steve this way. She pulls away slightly and moves her lips to my wrist, where she's drawn the fake tattoo, and she kisses it softly. I watch her. I'm grateful for being with my best friend this way, because there's never a boring day without her.

It's been the best last day of summer I can ever remember.

**A/N: Agh, okay… definitely **_**not**_ **my best work… not at all. Anyway, hope you sort of enjoyed this? I really don't like the outcome, but feedback is always appreciated.**


End file.
